literature

RUMINATION 15, FOR THE ANCHOVY (2/4)

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Atomic was draped in a sheet of dust. “Stooop!” it rattled a hollow wail “-Y’got me three time’s already. Get back, just back off-okay?”

darts pinged off of the robot’s guarding arms “I don’want a’touch you!” they swung upwards in the fashion of a mechanical boxer. Two

black shapes hit the floor and were both trampled under stomping feet. Parmesan looked and pointed elsewhere: “Olives need’s a lift.”

The young warrior monk had with him a black satchel; they hoisted him up by the lengthy shoulder strap. An electric scream became

shrill laughter: “No booboo’s knee scrapes slivers or owies! “Die-die-die!”” the robot knocked someone’s head backwards. “I’m stuck.”

Rex found that the chain was around his ankle was attached to the diving board. A stream of armed bullfrogs sprinted around the rim

of the basin. “There’s more coming,” seeing that the lance was not loaded, Parmesan instead swung the launcher off his shoulder to

thwart a counterattack “Look in the bag so I can reload it!” he said and cracked an assailant along the jaw. The empty tube drew out dull

percussions as the otter spun with both sides colliding in all directions. Olives assisted; the both of them drove back the entire line of

Phibs. Rex saw the bag unfolded on the diving board. Someone pushed him, his foot slipped off the corner of the platform and once

again he was upside down. From the corner of his eyes (Ping-Ping,) he saw spokes turning in the battlefield and heard Dances with

Oliver cry out “There’s a bike coming around the bend!” from out of the dog’s peripheral field of sight, bikers drove up and down their

own independent ramps. (Ping-Ping). He balled up on the chain and tried to reach the bag with his paws. The lance he wielded detained

Parmesan, four spearheads poked and prodded the helpless otter “Pay attention-Rex, go and help them!” the dog rolled his eyes, trying

to pull himself back on top. “I would if I could, Stan!” A pair of wheels drove up the ram, a passenger hopped off the back, the bike went

back down the ramp. It had a welt on its face “WORP,” gurgling, the frog stood above him on the plank; which was beginning to become

warped and overcrowded. (PING-PING). The frog pointed his air rifle down and pulled back the pump, leaning closer to get a good shot.

Rex grabbed the speargun with one paw and the other on the ledge, keeping it pointed the other way. Phip-a shot of air blew his ear

back. The frog above him lost balance fell directly on the bag and a canister rolled out of it post-collision. He reacted immediately and

caught the shell as it teetered on the edge. Rex used it as a truncheon-CLANG-the Phib was hit directly on the head. The club was

pulled back and ready to strike again but the blow did nothing to reduce its reflexes. The dog now hung suspended by an arm a leg and

a ballistic shell; in a lightning fast display of strength he was pulled up completely onto the diving board. In a thirty-second scuffle Rex

ended up with the tail half of the rocket and the Phib had the front end. It pulled him close to inspect his handy work and Rex was

taken aback by the reek of it’s breath “You wan’thank me handsome?” the frog’s forehead came down on his nose “OW!” in reaction Rex

pulled the other way and the frog repeated it’s action. “Let go y‘creep!” Something happened to the rocket, something subtle but all too

clear to both of them. In a split second before it happened Rex gathered that smoke was pouring out of the spearhead-FHOOMP- a

rush of air blew them both back. The frog slouched, eyes despondent. Surreally, the deputy became a wind up car and raced backwards,

sliding by the seat of its pants. Knocking into those recovering or fleeing in mid-stride. Olives tried to get the frog off Parmesan’s back.

“Wait, there!” Rex unfastened the speargun from a corpse. The stationary handle seemed dense and weighted. Parmesan waked

backwards with the remora was still attached to him, its tongue tied to his neck Rex swung the rifle in frogs the lower spine, it arched

and slid off slowly. He put the handle in the eye of the parasite. Olives took one half and Parmesan the other and the frog was hurled

off into the basin. After a scream the Goose flapped onto the edge of the diving board with Chief Pepperoni using an arm as a pair of

reigns. HONK-the remaining frogs scurried away. “Look at him. He’s golden.” Stan did not shed pride in pointing out. The dog went to

the bodies unfolded on the platform. “F’you say so,” he piffled “I better reload this,” and breezily looked to replace the spear on his

weapon. There was nothing but empties so far as Rex could tell, “Give me the rocket lance,” said the Chief’s, hard-nosed. The creature

waddled, adjusting to the weight. “I have your ceremonial blades.” Olives tightened his belt and unsheathed his weapon “Here,” with a

grin he, the otter cut the chain “Take this, you’re one of us now.” Rex fit his paw into the saber’s hand guard. It weighted as much as a

cleaver “Nice,” the dog approved. “Do I get a funny name too?” Olives furrowed his brow.  “How about Brother Zucchini?”

suggested Stan (the Great Anchovy) “It means heroic.”

“I’m sorry my lord,” said the young, naïve otter “I thought it meant senseless.”

“Brothers-to me!” the Chief called his fellow otters “-CHAAARGE!” (HOOONK!) The white goose led the charge; the pike swatted the

frogs that ran to slow. Parmesan roared in front of Rex, Olives close to his side as they ran around the arena. (Ping-Ping) from Rex’s

peripheral view he saw spokes spinning behind him. More riders appeared up and down their separate ramps.

“FOR THE ANCHOVY, THE ANCHOVY-EEEE!”

Rex saw how the frogs on the tandem were preparing the tube for ignition. He caught Olive’s attention and the tiny otter hacked at the

front wheel. Rex used the spike to puncture the rubber-POP-SSSSHHH-the driver rotated the handles confusedly. Chief Pepperoni

passed the tube to Parmesan and he deflected the lance with his own jousting rod. The brave otter drew his sword turned the goose

around “It’s not best to stand directly in front of him.” Stan advised, Olives pulled Rex to the ground. He heard wings flapping, stray

feathers falling comparable to pallid leaves. The bird kicked the bike over the edge. Another rode up to replace it, a lance primed to

fire. The Chief swiped his blade and cleaved the tube in half just as it was about to-FHOOMP- There was a corkscrewed trail of smoke,

Pepperoni was on the ground beside the goose, its plumage ruffled. Cod only knew where the tandem went. In that exact moment Rex

saw the rocket spiraling upwards directly opposite of them, exploding across the empty basin. Parmesan was matching pole for pole,

just as another bike appeared and cut them off from the seating area. Olives got up and hopped on the wheel hub; Parmesan added his

own weight and the bicycle toppled it over and stabbed the pair of riders. “Is Chief Pepperoni alright?” Rex heard Stan (the Anchovy) ask

with a hint of worry. A plume of fire erupted in the stadium, lightning rained from a tele-screen floating through the air.

“That’s Gianni, I think.” Rex pointed as the otters helped Chief Pepperoni to stand up. Two silver things tailed the flying infant rockets

shot over them, glowing as if they were embers, “We ought to help those guys-they won’t last for long.” The otters helped their lord

stand on his two feet, while Rex went to the bag and loaded a fresh artillery shell into each rocket-lance. They were few feet from

Atomic; the frogs were still cascading down into stone court. Gathering at the foot of the bleachers, splitting somewhat taking the

shape of a pair of bullhorns that half surrounded the incline. The dog ran ahead, leaving with jousting pole and leaving the other

behind. He ran with the javelin, from the short distance a frustrated Bullfrog looked to be holding a glowing punk and waving it in

circles. Rex faced with a guard that challenged him by pushing out its chest. The spear tip rebounded off and Rex fell his tail and the

frog bounced straight into the crowed. A row of rubber hilted shock prods unsheathed simultaneously. Chief Pepperoni ran around Rex

and quickly deflected the blow with his paw one way-BZZZ-and in the same fluid motion he backhanded Phib so hard it was dazed,

falling onto Dances with Olive’s. The otter made two quick incisions and threw the lifeless body aside “Olives, take this!” he threw

something to the passing otter, a kind of fork that he immediately put to use. Parmesan disregarded the stingers and charged with

both, hacking away at the crowed with blades akimbo.

“Come n’say hello,” Bob thrusted the side of the handle into the guard's nose and hooked the pick onto it's vest.

Another explosion erupted beside Rex. It was so loud it shook the floor; he hit the ground hard. Monitors floated at high speeds,

surrounding the arena. The otters were reeling form the attack, rolling off of one another.

“That was the elite guard,” the Anchovy related “They’re using cheap zap guns.” Rex crawled on his belly, the enemy screeching above

him. As he reached for the rocket lance, four separate bolts of lighting twisted every which way. The floor grew hot and Rex was thrown

as if he were a rag doll. His body fell flat on one of the center benches. “That was something,” It had taken the wind out of his sails.

The applesauce creature danced around licking his whiskers, Rex hadn’t a clue how it got there. The persistent purple fuzzy thing aided

Rex by taking his paw and climbed from one step to the next. The frogs were unclasping their holsters, recklessly firing over one

another. All fighting the otters if not feuding amongst themselves. Despite the dead that littered the stands, there were still a many

more of them. While attempting to subdue Atomic, the Phibs suffered more losses by the ricochet then direct contact with the android.

PUHT-PUHT-PUHT- Rex spotted Bob and the Emissary charging up the bleachers; both were both hiding behind his suitcase to deflect

the flack. Suddenly the applesauce creature brushed its nose up against a bare ankle the sickening shade of green. The little fuzzy

thing had a mouth four times the size of its body that closed around the appendage as quick as a bear trap. The Bullfrog fell back

supporting itself between seats. The loaded pistol dropped before Rex. Darts whistled and through the smoke he saw Snig (whatever

his name is), dancing in the crossfire. His spring-loaded foot connected with a firearm and punted one down the stairs. A violet eye

showed through a tiny hole in his right lens. The frog rolled over the seats and collided with others on the way.

“Feel the length of Jim!” the rapier drill buzzed and wobbled as it went about carving through the rubber armor. Black shreds

puffed before-SHHK-the blade struck flesh.. “I can’t get this thing to work!” Though the switch was being pressed on and off the drill

had clearly snagged. Rex fired his pistol where they were unprotected  “Don’t worry, I got yah.” -BZZZZZ- Drunkenly the Emissary

retaliated; the drill whipped and lashed his enemies. Rex heard the otters begin to sing  

Over there I behold,

The salty spirits glow,

I feel a’need to show.

The enemy will not overtake me!

Upon its shine I know,

A feeling stirs me so

The Anchovy will not forsake me!

The Anchovy will not forsake me!
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